


Chłodny Śnieg

by spiritboard



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children (2016), Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, Hollowspeak, Minor Character Death, Other, Polish! Jacob Portman, book canon, horace is 15, i guess, idk abt ships yet, ish, jacob hunts hollows w abe, jacob speaks polish, millard is 16, movie enoch bc book enoch is a cuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-06-08
Packaged: 2018-11-02 08:17:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10940565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiritboard/pseuds/spiritboard
Summary: At two years old, Jacob Portman's parents die in a car crash from an unknown cause. Jacob's grandfather takes the boy in as his own, and moves to Poland in order to stay safe. After a hollow attacks his home, killing Abraham Portman, Jacob must find Miss Peregrine and her loop in order to stay safe.Chłodny Śnieg means Cold Snow in Polish





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> im learning polish so ???  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not a nice sight when Jacob sees his grandpa about to be eaten by a hollow.

The cold air fills Jacob’s lungs, his finger on the trigger of the rifle, one eye closed, ready to shoot. His open eye is trained on the shadow before him, the barrel of the weapon firmly trained in the center of the creature’s head. Jacob wets his lips and braces himself as he pulls the trigger of the rifle. There’s the sickening noise of bullet reaching wet skin and the loud crack of the hollow’s skull bursting open. The creature thumps to the ground, dead.

“ _Do widzenia, hollowgast_ ,” Jacob murmurs to the wintery air. He removes himself from where he was kneeling and turns back to his grandfather’s home, rifle strapped over his shoulder. He shivers, although his coat is thick and shouldn’t allow the cold to seep into his bones. Yet it does, and Jacob has the feeling that something is very wrong. He begins to run back to the house, a light sweat growing on his forehead.

 

* * *

 

“ _Dziadzio_ , I’m home.” Jacob calls to the house when he enters, leaning his rifle against the wall. For a second nobody answers. Jacob is quiet, lips pressed together in a thin line, ears straining to hear anything. Another second passes before he hears a grunting noise coming from the kitchen. He doesn’t allow himself to relax as he walks through the doorway. It smells sour - similar to the scent of a hollow but there’s a metallic hue on the outside of it. Splashes of red and black blood rake the floor and walls, starting next to the sink. There’s a gurgling noise, and then the sound of something being impaled from the room connected to the kitchen. Jacob hurries forward and into the doorway. A hollow stands over his grandfather, tongues curling around his muscular frame.

 

“ _Dziadzio!_ ” He hears himself say, watching as his grandfather struggles in the hollow’s tendrils. His grandfather is dropped to the floor with a crunch and the hollow faces Jacob. It snarls, large black eyes filled with hunger. Jacob takes a deep breath, remembering his grandfather’s words; You can speak it, Yakob. You can control it. The boy feels panicky, his grandfather wasn’t able to control it so why should he? The hollow is stalking towards Jacob, tongues outstretched.

 

“Yakob..” His grandfather watches him with sad eyes. Jacob’s heart beats quickly in his chest. The hollow is closing in on him. Jacob opens his mouth.

 

“ _Back off._ ” The guttural gurgles that pour out of his mouth are thick, but and edge curls around it, slicing into the hollow’s brain. It stops moving. Jacob’s grandfather smiles. “ _Leave_.” It uses its thick body to drag itself out of the room. Jacob can hear the door open and slam shut. He waits several minutes before rushing to his grandfather’s side.

 

“ _Dziadzio,_ oh my god, I’m so sorry.” The words come out of his mouth like running water as he runs his hands over his grandfather’s neck and wrist to check for a pulse. It’s there, but weak. His grandfather pushes his hands away.

 

“Yakob, you need to go.” He whispers hoarsely. Jacob feels tears welling in his eyes. “There’s money in the middle drawer of my dresser; around 6000 _zl̷oties._ Use it to get to the island.”

 

“ _Dziadzio…_ I can’t leave you.” The tears are pooling over his cheeks. Jacob’s grandfather uses a weak hand to wipe them away.

 

“There’s not enough time, Yakob.” His voice is getting softer by the second, the strength leaking out of his body via the bloody hole in his abdomen. “Please. Find them.”

 

“I-I will, _dziadzio._ ” He whispers. He presses his lips to his grandfather’s cold forehead. “ _Przepraszam. kocham cię, dziadzio_.” His grandfather smiles sadly.

 

“ _Kocham was też,_ Yakob,” He says, voice barely audible. He takes a shuddering breath before his body stills and his eyes glaze over. Jacob leans over his body and cries on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> do widzenia: goodbye  
> dziadzio: grandfather  
> zl̷oties: polish currency (6000 is equal to 1580.38 dollars in usd)  
> przepraszam :i'm sorry (or excuse me but w/e)  
> kocham cię: i love you  
> kocham was też: i love you too
> 
> hope u enjoyed. comment and i might update (i will anyway but please im needy)


	2. Ciggy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jacob's journey to Cairnholm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh tw for smoking i guess and offering a kid a cig

It’s early morning when Jacob steps his foot off the plane and into the terminal. The plane was small, and only cost around seven-hundred fifty zl̷oties for him to fly to Cardiff. The boy quickly made his way to to currency exchange, and was given a small fee of two pounds. The man behind the counter had given him a strange look, but said nothing as he handed him the money. Jacob stands outside the airport, a thick wad of pounds in his pocket and a small suitcase filled with clothing. He pulls at the collar of his turtleneck and sighs when the cab rolls up. 

“Oi kid, where ya goin?” There’s a contact lens case in one of the cup holders, and a plastic cup of coffee with a lid. Jacob slides into the passenger seat and puts his bag at his feet.

“The ferry terminal, sir,” Jacob answers. The man touches the screen of his GPS, types something in, and then starts to drive.

“Gonna be about 45 minutes, kid.” He says. “You got money for that?” He looks at Jacob doubtfully.

“Yes, sir.” The man smiles.

“Good. The name’s Golan, enjoy your ride, boy.” Jacob feels something twist in his gut, but ignores the paranoia as he looks out the window.

 

When Jacob gets out of the car with his suitcase, he feels dread wash over him. He pays Golan and walks into the ferry terminal. It’s empty, excluding the woman sitting at the counter with a bored look on her face. She’s scrolling through her phone when Jacob walks up.

“Ticket to Cairnholm, please.” His voice startles her out of her trance, and she looks up at him.

“Sure. 10 pounds.” She holds out her hand, and Jacob hands her a bill. She gives him a ticket and goes back to scrolling through her phone, her pink fingernails clicking the screen as she touches it. “Over there.” She points with her free hand to the door that leads to the dock.  
There’s a man smoking a cigarette next to the boat, and he seems to silently groan at the sight of Jacob.

“Cairnholm?” He asks, removing the fag from his lips. Jacob nods and the man sighs. He takes one more drag of the cig before dropping it to the concrete of the dock and crushing the butt under his toe. The ash smudges against the ground but the man doesn’t seem to care. He motions to the boat again. “C’mon, let’s go, kid.” 

 

The ride to Cairnholm was nice. It was kind of breezy, but the sun was out, and the water looked more blue than ever. There was one more person on the boat, and he had a book spread across his lap that seemed to be about birds. Jacob ignored him for the most part, but jumped when the man gasped at the sight of a peregrine falcon flying overhead. He rolled his eyes, and continued to watch as the island came closer.

 

The man who drove them to Cairnholm strapped up the boat when they got to the shore, and then lit another cigarette. The other guy on the boat had asked him for one, and took a drag, tucking his book under his arm, and adjusting the hat on his head. The first man hesitated a second.

“Hey, kid.” Jacob turned around to see both of them sitting on one of the dock’s benches. The man held out a cig. “You wanna fag?” Jacob didn’t respond for a second.

“Sorry, but no.” He said, watching the man as he shrugged and stuffed the ciggy back into his cigarette case. The bird man gave Jacob an odd look but didn’t say anything, and took a drag of smoke. Jacob turned around and walked away, feeling the palms of his hands begin to sweat with anxiety.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw fag is english slang for a cigarette   
> comment please i'll update ;0

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @gay-connor hmu


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